


You See Yourself In Monochrome (I See You In Color)

by Jay Auris (nighthawkms)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Brian's been burned before, Jimmy's looking for something permanent, M/M, The exact opposite mood of the actual show, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You'll know it when you see it, surprise crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighthawkms/pseuds/Jay%20Auris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian's asexuality has always been an issue in relationships. Jimmy asks him for a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

 

"So you wanna grab a bit to eat after work?" Jimmy leans over Brian's desk, smiling at him as he types something on his laptop. "I found a new Ethiopian place we could try. Just you and me and a plate of _injera_."

"Gonna have to pass," Brian says, not looking up from the screen as he continues to type. "Gotta get my taxes done."

"I thought you did that last week."

"They messed up, gotta go back to H&R Block and fix it," Brian says, and he's a terrible liar. Jimmy keeps telling him that, and Brian keeps pretending he isn't. One of these days, maybe Jimmy will get frustrated with his excuses and give up, but today is not that day.

"How about tomorrow? Unless you have another hot date in line?" Jimmy winks, enjoying the way Brian bites his lip and tries not to laugh. Also terrible at dealing with Jimmy's flirting, Brian is.

"Tomorrow I plan on starting my taxes for next year," Brian drawls, obviously choosing to not getting the hint. "Always good to get a head start on important things."

Jimmy would enjoy this banter if it wasn't ruining his plans. "Jeez, I thought I was the old fart. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, hitting up bars for eligible ladies... or gentleman, if you'd prefer?"

"I'd _prefer_ you leave me alone so I can finish this report, Jim."

Jimmy huffs with an unflattering pout and stalks away, taking his frustration out on the roll of paper towels in the exam room, tearing a hunk off and scrubbing the autopsy tables to unhealthily hygienic standards.

Beverly walks in as he's tossing the whole pile into the trash.

"I just got that roll from storage," she says. "Did you really have to use half of it in one go?"

"I don't get it," Jimmy grumbles, leaning back against the wall. "I know he likes me. You know he likes me. The entire fucking office knows at this point. Jack's been giving me the "overprotective father" glare for the last two months, and he just barely _tolerates_ Brian. So why the hell won't he take a hint and go out with me? Is it the age thing?" he asks, glancing over at her. "I mean I know I'm not a spring chicken, but..."

"It's not the age thing," Beverly says, joining him against the wall. "His parents are what, fifteen years apart?"

"He's also a child of divorce."

"That doesn't mean he blames the age for that. Believe me, we've _talked,"_ Beverly says, giving him a pointed look.

"He's definitely bisexual, I distinctly remember him mentioning breakups with both genders." Jimmy presses a hand to his forehead, kneading the flesh. "I am really stumped at this point."

"Have you tried being direct?"

"I don't do direct. I do coy, I do flirty, I do teasing. I wouldn't even know how to do direct. 'Hey Brian, wanna go on a date that will potentially lead to banging and feelings and eventually a long term relationship with bills and kids and growing old together?'"

"Maybe don't _start_ with that," Beverly says, grinning and nudging him in the shoulder. "How about 'I like you and I know you like me too, so let's have dinner.'"

"We've never actually had a dinner without you there," Jimmy says. "He's worked here, what, two years? Every time I ask him out, he asks 'Will Bev be there?' And if I say no, I get a bullshit excuse."

"I'm telling you," Bev says, walking out. "Be direct."

Jimmy drums his fingers against his side, hating the fact that she's probably right. He doesn't want to be direct, he likes vagueness and innuendo and room for doubt. It lets him wave off any rejections as misinterpretations; protect himself a bit.

But he really, _really_ likes Brian. Floaty hearts and fireworks and orchestral symphonies playing in his head whenever the guy is nearby, that sort of like. And maybe he should start taking risks, he's not getting any younger.

 _Eh, what the hell_ , he thinks, walking out of the exam room and back to the office. _He could be worth it_.

However, when he gets to the office, Brian isn't there. He hasn't gone home, his shoulder bag is still sitting on top of the stacks of files on his desk. So Jimmy goes looking, checking the usual spots in the building that the other man hides out in for a quick five minute nap or some peace and quiet. Jimmy knows them all because he showed them all to Brian when he first started working at the BAU.

When he opens the door to the back stairwell, Brian's voice drifts up to him from a flight below. Jimmy lets the outer door close quietly and hops down a few steps, trying to hear what Brian's saying. He's obviously talking to somebody, and because there's no other voice, Jimmy's guessing he's on the phone.

"No I'm not saying that- no, I know you think I'm not being fair to him- you've never even met the guy, Mimi." _That's his sister_ , Jimmy thinks, feeling half-guilty about listening in on Brian's private conversation, but curiosity getting the better of him. He takes the steps as softly as he can, thankful that linoleum is generally noiseless as long as he doesn't squeak the soles of his shoes.

Brian keeps talking. "Yes, I know you just want me to be happy, but this isn't something you seem to get... Yes, he's really sweet and I like him, but they all eventually want the same thing, and I don't want to end up hating him because he can't control himself."

 _Is he talking about me?_ Jimmy thinks, and now he's really curious, and even more guilty. On the one hand, this is definitely a breach of trust, and he should probably turn around and leave right now before he hears something he shouldn't. On the other hand... he feels so close to figuring out why Brian won't go out with him, and this conversation seems like it could enlighten him.

The guilt wins out, but before he can get up the steps, Brian is talking again. "No- no I told you before, that is not happening, and it's still insulting that you keep bringing it- this isn't something I need therapy _for_ , Mimi! It's perfectly normal- damn it, just because I don't want to have sex, doesn't mean I'm sick in the head!"

Jimmy hears the clatter of a phone, and then silence.

 _Shit, shit, shit_ , he thinks, trying to back up the steps,. But his shoe squeaks on the third step up, loudly, and there's no way Brian didn't hear it.

"Who's there?" Brian shouts, and Jimmy sighs and peeks his head over the railing, meeting Brian's suspicious gaze.

"Hi," Jimmy says, cringing as Brian's expression turns mortified. "I was looking for you."

"Oh my god," Brian groans, digging his hands into his hair and yanking on the curls. "How long were you listening?"

"...Long enough?" Jimmy says, a nervous squeak at the peak of his voice.

" _Oh my god_ ," Brian moans again, and he looks like he's going to pass out.

"Wait, wait," Jimmy says, taking the stairs two at a time, down to the landing where Brian is. He holds his hands out in front of him, like Brian's a scared animal about to flee. "Please don't be mad. It really was an accident... If it helps, I like you too?"

It obviously doesn't help, because Brian goes red from bottom to top like a rising thermometer and presses his hands over his face.

"Okay, I'm getting transferred," he says, shaking his head rapidly and backing up against the wall, sliding down to sit against the ground and burying his face in his knees. "Fuck it, I'm looking for a new job when I get home."

"Brian, what the hell?" Jimmy asks, seriously concerned at this point. He squats down in front of Brian, not sure whether the man wants to be touched at the moment, but putting a hand on his knee to try for comfort anyway. "What's wrong? Talk to me, I promise you won't regret it."

"Yeah, I've heard that before," Brian mutters, but then he sighs and lifts his head. "I know you like me, of course I do, I have for ages."

"Then what's the problem? It's not the age, right? Bev said it wasn't..."

"Of course it's not the age," Brian says. "It's me. I'm the problem... I'm not good in relationships."

"And you think I am?" Jimmy snorts. "I'm forty-eight years old and I haven't had a relationship last longer than six months. You're looking at the king of failed relationships."

"You're not going to understand."

"Well could you at least let me _try_ to? Maybe explain it for the non-geniuses like yourself? Is it that thing you were yelling at your sister about before you threw your phone against the wall?"

Brian nods miserably. "I"m... do you know what asexuality is?"

"Vaguely?" Jimmy shrugs. "I've heard the term before, it's just never been explained to me."

"The short explanation is that I'm not interested in sex, or any sort of sexual relationship with another person. I don't find people attractive in that manner, and I never have."

Jimmy's not sure if this next question is appropriate, but he goes for it anyway. "So you've never had..."

"No, I have. But I've never enjoyed it." Brian runs a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on his knees. "When I was a dumb young kid, I thought I could just force it, so I went through a few relationships just going along with what my partner wanted. But then I learned that it's not uncommon, being like this." He glances up at Jimmy. "So I stopped forcing myself, and I haven't slept with anyone since then."

"Ahh..." Jimmy ponders this for a moment. "Okay. Next question. Does that mean you don't date people?"

Brian shakes his head. "Of course not, Jim. I'm all for romance and emotional relationships. The problem is I don't want anything else, and nobody I date seems to get that."

"They don't get that you don't want to have sex?"

"Every time I date someone, they always tell me, 'sure Brian, I don't mind not having sex,' and then inevitably, maybe a month, maybe six months down the line, they decide that the only reason I don't like sex is because I haven't had it with _them_." He scowls, obviously recalling some bitter memories. "That's usually when it ends, and I get called unlovable or inhuman."

"I'm sorry," Jimmy says, rubbing Brian's knee in what he hopes is a soothing manner. "You shouldn't have to deal with that. But is that the only reason you think you can't date me?"

There's a moment of hesitation from Brian, but then he nods.

"You're my best friend, Jim," he says, and Jimmy feels a rush of warmth rising in his chest, endeared by the flattery. "And I don't want to risk the relationship we have." He lowers his voice, mumbling. "Even if I do really like you."

Jimmy is quiet, the wheels in his mind turning as he tries to consider what to do next. Finally, he nods, more to confirm his own thoughts than to affirm Brian's.

The other man's gaze has drifted away, so Jimmy taps Brian's knee to get his attention. "Do you trust me, Zee?"

"Of course I-"

"No, I really mean it." Jimmy shakes his head, and then, on an impulse, reaches out and takes one of Brian's hands, clasping it between his own. "Tell me that you trust me."

Brian's eyes flit to their joined fingers, and Jimmy can almost feel his heart racing through the touch of his palm. "I trust you with anything, Jim."

"Then can you trust me to prove myself more worthy than the other assholes you've dated? Not that I'm not an asshole." He winks, relishing the smile that finally appears on Brian's face. "But maybe a better one than the one's you've dated before."

Brian's eyes are still fixed on their hands, and the muscles in his face twitch, the decision vacillating back and forth on his expression. But finally, he sighs.

"...You're lucky I really, really like you." To Jimmy's delight, Brian nods his head. "Fine. We can try it, as long as you promise you won't hate me if it doesn't work out."

"That I can definitely promise, because there's no way in hell I could ever hate you. You annoy me to death, but that's another story." He meets Brian's grin with his own, and it's like a weight has been lifted off of both their shoulders. "Okay, Friday night, I'll pick you up at seven, dress semi-casual. Avoid any old ratty band T-shirts or jeans with tears."

"I'm already accessorizing in my head," Brian snarks as Jimmy helps him to his feet. "Maybe I'll even try a little hair gel for this mess." He motions to his curls.

"Oh gosh, please don't. I'd be so sad to see that mess go."

 

 

~

 

 

Jimmy rings Brian's doorbell at exactly seven pm, counting down to the second on his watch. It feels like the butterflies in his chest are having an aggressive, genocidal war with nuclear armaments, and he hasn't been this nervous since he came out to his parents. He grips a small bouquet of lilacs, hoping Brian doesn't have any latent flower allergies he hasn't mentioned. It would be pretty awful to ruin their first date with a trip to the emergency room.

Brian opens the door in a plaid red button down and black slacks, and he's definitely trimmed his beard. "You're awfully punctual," he says, stepping to the side to let Jimmy in. "How long were you standing out there?"

"Longer than I care to admit." Jimmy holds out the flowers. "I didn't want to rush you."

"I've been ready for the last half hour," Brian says, grinning and taking the bouquet. "Where are we going tonight?"

"Ah, well, I wasn't kidding about that Ethiopian," Jimmy explains. "It's tasty, classy, and the owner is a sweetheart."

"I've never had," Brian admits. "But I'm always up for trying new things. Let me put these in water, and we'll go."

Jimmy opens the car door for Brian when they get to the vehicle. Brian just rolls his eyes, but gets in anyway.

"Jimmy Price, man of chivalry, I never knew," Brian says when Jimmy gets into the car. "Flowers, holding the door, am I getting my seat pulled out for me at the restaurant too?"

"Call me old fashioned," Jimmy says, shrugging. "I've been dying to take you out for ages; this is just how my excitement manifests itself."

Brian chuckles, giving him a fond look that makes his stomach do flip flops like a head-basher in a mosh pit. "I'm looking forward to seeing what else you're capable of."

When they get to the restaurant, Amina, the owner, has a table in the corner reserved for them. Jimmy doesn't have too much trouble making friends, and after the first time he came here to eat, she and he were trading stories and laughing over common ground by the end of the night. She winks at him as she shows them to their table, and whispers " _he's cute"_ as Jimmy pulls the chair out for Brian, before disappearing to find their server. It's obviously loud enough for Brian to hear, because he goes red and hides behind the menu until Jimmy yanks it down.

"She's not wrong," Jimmy says, teasing him. "I've often had the same thought."

Brian smirks, shaking his head. "You just wanted to get me someplace public so everyone could flatter you for catching a hot young thing."

"Ahhh, but I used the best bait."

"And that is?"

"My stellar personality."

Brian snorts into the glass of water he'd been drinking, smiling through a coughing fit. "Well, I suppose your extreme narcissism is one of your charms," he says when he can breathe again.

"Says the man who owns the tightest shirts he can possibly fit into."

"Hey, I like dressing well, is that a crime?"

"I didn't say I was complaining," Jimmy says, sipping his water and giving Brian a pointed look up and down. Brian smirks again, shaking his head and looking at the menu.

Jimmy explains the whole process of eating with the _injera_ instead of utensils, and when their server comes over, Brian orders the _Gored-Gored_ , a beef dish covered in spices, while Jimmy gets the Chicken Tibs. They talk about work for a while, exchanging opinions over their latest case, and debating the merits of the finer points of fingerprint analysis, Jimmy's specialty.

When the food comes, Jimmy swipes a piece of _injera_ from the basket and spoons a bit of his meat onto it, offering it to Brian over the table. "Wanna try?" Brian reaches out, but Jimmy shakes his head. "Nah ah, let me."

Brian raises an eyebrow, but dips his head and takes the bite from Jimmy's hand with his lips, ghosting over the skin of Jimmy's fingers for a moment. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he has to rebuke himself. _Keep it in your pants, Price. Don't ruin everything on the first damn date_.

But Brian doesn't seem to mind, he just laughs and shakes his head. "I don't think this is what I imagined you'd be like on a date," he says, sipping his drink.

"Oh yeah?" Jimmy says. "How did you picture me?"

"A lot pushier. And grope-ier."

"Mmmm, I'm not twenty-five anymore." Jimmy takes a bite of his food. "I'm looking for something more... permanent."

"Really? Alright, no expectations _there_ or anything," Brian says, drumming his fingers on the table. "I definitely didn't expect you to be this serious."

"I am very serious when it comes to you," Jimmy admits, and he takes a moment to appreciate the way Brian's eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, before they glance back down at his plate.

When they finish, Jimmy pays (he threatens to tell Jack about every detail of their date if Brian doesn't put away his credit card, _now_ ) and when they get out onto the street, he takes Brian's hand.

"Come on," Jimmy says. "There was another reason I wanted us to eat in this neighborhood, let's take a walk."

They walk, fingers laced together, down the street in the cool summer air, and Jimmy feels sixteen again, Brian's palm warm against his own. The town park lies ahead of them, and the sounds of stringed instruments waft and flow into their eardrums.

When they turn the corner, they see the main body of the park, a plaza surrounded by trees with a crystalline lake to the east, and large gazebo in the center. There are several hundred people crowded around the structure. Inside the gazebo, raised above the crowd, is a small band, playing an instrumental version of _American Pie_.

"What's going on?" Brian asks. "Did the fourth of July come early?"

"It's their Founder's Day," Jimmy explains. "They have a little town picnic during the day, and at night they have a band and a fireworks display. You didn't notice all the people heading up the street when we went into the restaurant?"

"That wasn't really what I was paying attention to," Brian says, glancing at him, and yep, the butterflies have returned, though a little muted by the full belly and the warm hand in his own.

"Come on, they're starting the fireworks soon. Anywhere in the park is good to see it from."

They stand a bit off from the main part of the crowd, never letting go of each other's hands, talking quietly while they wait for the show. When the last rays of the descending sun finally disappear into the shadows of the night sky, a crackle goes off, and the crowd cheers as the first firework lights up the atmosphere.

Jimmy's always loved fireworks, so it really isn't his fault that he's not paying one hundred percent attention to Brian during the show. But it makes for a nice surprise, when, during the crescendo of the display, Jimmy feels Brian's hand escape his grip, only to land on the back of his neck an instant later, and he has no time to think before he's being drawn into a kiss.

Brian's lips are firm and precise, demanding only that Jimmy meet them in equal measure. He turns his body fully into the kiss, resting a hand on Brian's hip, savoring the way their mouths slide against one another, and despite the lack of tongue, this is the most intimate kiss he's ever had in his life. The fireworks crash against the sky, drowning out any other noise, focusing his senses in on touch alone, and Jimmy's body is overloaded, Brian's hand feeling like fire licking on the back of his neck.

When Brian leans back, he grins down at Jimmy, biting his own lip in a manner that is positively sinful.

"Sorry," he croaks, clearing his throat. "I've been wanting to do that all night."

"Shut up, never apologize for that, are you kidding?" Jimmy's face is threatening to break apart with a smile this wide. "Feel free to do that as often as you want."

"If you insist." And then he's wrapping his arms around Jimmy's shoulders and pulling him in for another round.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

Jimmy comes in to work on Monday practically dancing. Beverly stares at him as he enters the office, eying him up and down before smirking.

"How was the date?" she asks, all innocent like. Jimmy sees right through her. He's happy to play along.

"Fantastic," he sighs happily, flopping into his chair. "I'm amazed Brian didn't call you with every single detail the second I left his apartment."

"Oh he did," Beverly says, chucking a file into the trash bin. "I just wanted to see if your opinion matches his."

"And?"

"There was a lot more yelling and verbosity on his part, but he basically said the same thing. Ah, speak of the devil, good morning," she says as Brian walks in, but he only has eyes for Jimmy, fixing him with a giddy smile. "Well then, I'm going to let you two have your moment, go get the HR forms from Jack when you're done." She walks out, whistling, with coffee cup in hand.

"Hi," Jimmy says, sliding out of his chair and moving to stand mere inches from Brian. "It's probably a violation of the HR forms we're about to fill out to have public displays of affection at the office. So I'm going to do this before we sign those." He leans up on his toes and gives Brian a quick kiss, pulling back to enjoy the joyful expression on his face; the man is practically _sparkling_.

"We really are going to have to tell Jack, aren't we?" Brian asks, putting his bag down on his desk. "There's no way we're going to make it through a day without him figuring out."

"Yeah, I'd rather get it over with, the lecture we're going to get if we _don't_ tell him ourselves is worse than the one we'll get if we do." He rests a hand on Brian's arm, squeezing gently. "Luckily the BAU policy isn't too strict. Neither of us will get transferred, at least not under Jack's watch."

When they walk into Jack's office, the man already has the paperwork on his desk.

"Agent Katz was looking out for you," Jack says, leaning back into his chair and folding his hands across his stomach. "She’s your own personal cheerleader."

Jimmy rolls his eyes and takes the right seat; Brian takes the left. "We came right to you, first thing in the morning, Jack," Jimmy says, willfully keeping his hands in his lap so they don't wander over to Brian. "I'm never this punctual about my paperwork, you should be grateful."

Jack snorts, clicking a pen and rolling it across the desk towards them. It stops before it falls off; he's uncannily good at that trick. "Sign the forms and keep your hands off of each other while in the office. What you do after you clock out is your business."

"No lecture? Oww!" Brian yelps when Jimmy steps on his foot to shut him up.

"You're both grown men, Agent Zeller," Jack says, rolling his eyes. "You've both got fathers, let them have the birds and the bees talk with you. I just expect your _normal_ levels of professionalism on the job. Are we clear?" He's giving them that look, the one that tells them to look beneath his words.  _Ah_ , Jimmy thinks.  _Ah, I see._

"Yes sir," Jimmy says, grabbing the pen and signing his name in the corner (the rest of the form is already filled out, he recognizes Beverly's scribbly handwriting; Jack was right about the whole cheerleader comment, that woman is a saint). He hands the pen to Brian, who writes his own signature.

And then they step out into the hallway, and nothing's changed, except everything has.

"You wanna come over for dinner?" Jimmy offers as they walk back to their office. "I've got a quiche in the freezer, bacon and spinach with cheddar."

"Sounds good, I'll follow you home." He sways, nudging Jimmy's shoulder with his own. Jimmy gives him a questioning look. "Normal levels, remember?" He winks and picks up the pace. Jimmy quick-steps after him, eager to keep up.

 

~

 

The first two weeks fly by. They tradeoff between Brian's apartment and Jimmy's house, watching TV and sharing food, and being around each other's company in the most non-sexual manner Jimmy's been a party to since he was a virgin. Brian's all for closeness and intimacy, pillowing Jimmy's head on his shoulder, kissing him on the forehead and the nose and the cheek and the mouth and anywhere he can find purchase. They do share longer kisses, and the first time Brian surprises him with tongue, Jimmy has to shove his head in the freezer to cool off, which just makes Brian cackle and almost fall off the couch from laughing so hard.

"Not my damn fault," Jimmy grumbles when he sits back down. "You don't surprise a guy with tongue a week and a half into a relationship. That's patently unfair."

"See, to me it's just a deeper way of connection," Brian says.

Jimmy quirks an eyebrow. "You really don't get turned on? At all?"

Brian shrugs. "Nope."

"Eh, you're going to give me a heart attack," Jimmy groans, dramatically flopping back to rest against Brian's chest. "If we ever move in together, I'm going to need some scheduled 'me time' where you're out of the house and I have a paid Skinemax subscription."

Brian rolls his eyes. "It's not going to be that bad."

"Brian, I lo-like you," Jimmy says, hoping Brian didn't catch that little slip of the tongue. "But unlike you, I have  _needs_. Now I'm fine with you not giving me a literal hand with those needs, but I still need time to take care of them myself." He's not going to mention how many times he jerked off in his morning shower in the last few days. Apparently his youthful libido has reemerged right along with his teenage-dream-treacle-tart romantic side. His body is expecting sex, it's how almost every relationship he's ever had has worked. It's going to take a while to get used to not having it.

Brian drops his head to kiss Jimmy upside down on the couch. "You do what you need to do," he says, smiling down at Jimmy, and oh, he can handle never sticking his dick into another person for the rest of his life if it means getting to see that smile directed at him every day.

"I'm going to get a toothache from your sweetness," Jimmy says, tugging Brian's head back down for another kiss.

"Stay over," Brian says when they break apart. "We're both off tomorrow, and I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up."

_Son of a bitch_ , Jimmy thinks. _How am I going to survive sleeping in a bed with him?_ But he says yes anyway, it was never in question.

They watch TV until they both start to drift off. Then Brian drags him to the bedroom, and they fall onto the mattress, ignoring the covers as the thick summer heat penetrates even the billowing A/C. Jimmy finds himself pressed flush against the other man, face buried in his shoulder, and he thanks whatever Creator being there is that he's tired enough and old enough that it actually matters, makes his body choose sleep over sex.

In the morning, he wakes unbelievably well rested, and he blinks his eyes open to see Brian gazing down at him fondly, running a hand through his hair.

"Morning," Jimmy whispers through a yawn.

"You mutter in your sleep," Brian says, cupping his cheek. "Did you know that?"

"Yeah, usually it means I'm comfortable wherever I am."

Brian's eyes light up at that explanation. "Good to know," he says, leaning down and pulling Jimmy into a deep, stimulating kiss.

The neurons in Jimmy's brain wake up all at once. _Danger, danger!_ they scream, and all the repressed urges from the night before come roaring back full force.

Jimmy yanks back a bit too quickly, smiling to try and reassure the confused, slightly hurt look on Brian's face. "Sorry, I think I've got morning breath. I'm going to go hop in the shower, if you don't mind."

"No, it's fine," Brian says, letting him out of the vice-grip he's been holding onto the man with.

Jimmy flees to the privacy of the shower, washing all of his frustrations down the drain with a few flicks of his wrist. Afterwards, he leans his head up against the wall and closes his eyes, thinking.

This is going to be a disaster if he can't learn to control himself. He curses the cruel gods of irony that are making him aroused by the slightest touch of a man who desires no sexual contact whatsoever. _You can get through this_ , Jimmy thinks, giving himself a few swift smacks to the cheek. _You got through puberty in an all boy's high school in the seventies. If you can handle that sort of repression, you can handle this_.

 

~

 

He's really terrible at assessing his own ability for repression. Honestly, after almost fifty years you would think he would have learned that by now.

They fall into a pattern, staying over each other's place about four or five times a week. Jimmy will make them stay up until they're both ready to pass out, too fearful of what he might do if he isn't bone tired when they fall into bed together. In the morning, he lasts about a minute through one of Brian's specialty wake-up kisses, before excusing himself to the shower for a quick hand-job, like a college boy whose roommate never leaves the dorm.

He can handle the lack of penetration (both giving and receiving). It's just... there's an intimacy, both mid and post-coital, that he misses. By the time he's out of the shower, Brian's usually up making breakfast, and Jimmy's really trying to keep any sort of sexual inclinations away from their relationship, even something like post-sex snuggling.

One night, about a month in, they're in their usual position on the couch, and Jimmy's contemplating whether getting a vasectomy would decrease his sex drive, or if there's a thing such as opposite-Viagra. It's only about nine, so he's confused when Brian insists they go to bed early. It's not like they have anything to  _do_  in the morning, and Jimmy's a bit terrified of what will happen if he has any sort of energy left while lying in a bed with his boyfriend. Actually, he _knows_ what will happen; that's what he's terrified of.

"Can't we watch one more episode of _Royal Pains_?" Jimmy whines as Brian drags him to bed. "We're almost to the end of season 3."

"You hate that show," Brian says. "You only tolerate it for my sake. No, come on, I want to spend some time in bed with you that isn't entirely unconscious."

_But it's been working so well so far_ , Jimmy thinks. He doesn't voice this; if he's going to get thrown out of bed by Brian, it's not going to be for snark like that.

Jimmy tries to keep a bit of space between them in bed, but Brian's younger and stronger and more insistent, so he finds himself squished against the man's chest anyway.

He closes his eyes and thinks of icicles, his mother's yappy terrier, corpse dissection, anything. But nothing works, especially not when Brian tips his chin up into a kiss.

He tries to angle his lower region away from Brian's body, but the bastard wraps a leg around his own, probably for cutesy, sweet reasons, and there's no way he doesn't feel the press of Jimmy's erection against his leg.

_Well, it was nice while it lasted_ , Jimmy thinks as Brian breaks the kiss and stares at him with a surprised look. "Jim?"

" _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_ ," he babbles, hating himself for being an old fool and thinking he could protect Brian from his baser needs. He stops when Brian presses a hand to his lips, silencing him.

"Why are you apologizing?" Brian mumbles, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "It's alright, I was expecting this sooner or later."

"No it's not alright," Jimmy whines, really hoping that he can have one last kiss before Brian kicks him out, because nothing will ever be as satisfying as kissing this man, there will be a hollow hole in his heart for the rest of his life once this is over. "I tried, I really tried, Brian. I kept hoping that after enough showers and exhausted evenings, maybe it would stop, but it won't."

"Wait. that's- is that why you keep running away from me every morning?" Brian asks, his eyebrows writ in revelation. "You've been waking up like this _every day_?" He looks horrified.

Jimmy cringes, wanting to curl up in a hole in the ground and die. "What did you think I was doing in there every morning?"

"I kind of thought you really liked waking yourself up with the hot water... I guess you were waking yourself up in another way too, huh?"

Jimmy gives him a miserable smile. "You're really adorable in the morning," he says. "Apparently I find that hot as hell." He sighs. "And now I've gone and fucked it all up."

"What?" Brian looks confused, and that confuses Jimmy right back. "How?"

"You said this would only work if you didn't have to deal with anything sexual, and I can't help but _feel_ sexual whenever I'm around you, and that's not fair to you. You should be with someone who doesn't have to hide in the shower every morning so you don't have to see them aroused." He won't cry, he is too old to cry, even if this is the best relationship he's ever had, _oh fuck, I don't want this to be over._

"Jim- Jimmy, no!" Brian hugs him even tighter, which is surprising since Jimmy's erection, still hard, is most definitely grinding into his leg by now. "I said I didn't want sex, not that you had to be sexless _around_ me."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Jimmy sniffs, and those are definitely not tears. Again, much too old for that nonsense.

Brian cups his face with both his hands, kissing him gently. "I find no pleasure in my own arousal, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy seeing _you_ aroused," he explains. "Sex and sexual pleasure make you happy, and I like seeing you happy. So if you wanted to, I don't know, get yourself off while you kissed me and I watched you, I'd like seeing you enjoy yourself. I'd get pleasure from you letting yourself be so open and intimate with your body while I'm around."

Jimmy's still definitely confused, but suddenly less despairing than he was before. "So- so wait," he says, rubbing his (totally not wet) eyes. "I can kiss you and touch myself and see you next to me while I'm doing it and make myself come... and that's okay?"

Brian nods, smiling and kissing his forehead. "Of course, I know I can't help you in every capacity, but I don't mind helping you in some of them."

"Well that would've been nice to know a few weeks ago," Jimmy mumbles. "I think I doubled your water bill in the last month."

"I'm sorry," Brian says. "I should've been more clear."

"No, don't apologize." Jimmy sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I should've told you what I was feeling. I just didn't want to scare you away."

"I'm not a fragile teacup, Jim," Brian mutters. "I can handle what you throw at me." And then he tugs Jimmy's head up into a heady, passionate kiss that knocks the wind from Jimmy's lungs and sends a jolt of pure lust through his body.

"Brian," he moans when they separate, and he knows he probably looks knocked loose from his moorings, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

"Go ahead," Brian says, grasping Jimmy's wrist and maneuvering his hand over to rest above his erection. "You've been waiting far too long."

Jimmy whimpers, but he's already sliding his hand under his jeans, gasping in relief when he grips himself and starts to stroke. Brian's arms are warm and strong around his shoulders, and he won't let Jimmy up for air, kissing him again and again, almost in time with the flick of Jimmy's wrist around his cock. It feels so good after so many lonely showers and aborted morning kisses, so good to be held and to hear Brian's voice, encouraging him, telling him how gorgeous he looks in this haze of wanton lust, and Brian calls his name in a questioning tone and that does it, Jimmy loses it, crying Brian's name against his lips and coming, hard and fast, into the palm of his hand.

Brian holds him tight and hushes him with soothing tones as he comes down, feeling weightless and floaty in his boyfriend's arms.

"Do you want me to get a washcloth?" Brian mumbles against his forehead.

"No," Jimmy pants softly. "I don't ever want to move from this spot."

He hears Brian chuckle. "Feel better?"

"So much," Jimmy says, and all the the stress and the frustration and the terror of losing Brian fades away as he buries his face into the cotton fabric covering the other man's chest. "About everything."

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

 

Beverly's a gossip hound, and Jimmy's never been able to lie to her, so the entire story gets spilled the next day they have work.

"You are an idiot, you know that?" she says, rolling her eyes and bouncing a stress ball on her desk. "Who doesn't ask about clear sexual boundaries until a month into the relationship? No wonder you were a prickly bastard for the last two weeks."

"I may have been... frustrated," Jimmy admits, stretching in his chair and cracking his back. "I think I was starting to turn permanently pruny from all that water."

"You're already wrinkly enough," Bev says, winking at him. "Maybe it's a good thing you've been taken down a few pegs, god knows you're enough of a narcissist."

"Oh, shut up." He slides out of his chair, stealing the ball out of spite and chucking it in her trash can. "Stop enjoying this and come help me dissect Ms. Feldman."

Now, when he and Brian sleep over each other's houses, they usually end up in bed at the end of the night with Jimmy's hand on his own prick and Brian's voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear. After a few weeks, Jimmy finds his libido _finally_ settling down, and he looks forward to the one or two nights a week where they come together to relieve Jimmy's sexual urges.

For Brian's part, he doesn't seem to mind doing certain things; kissing is the main activity, but sometimes he'll slide a hand under Jimmy's shirt to stroke his stomach, or tongue the edge of Jimmy's ear, chuckling at the low moan that escapes Jimmy's mouth. His fingers will streak trails of fire up Jimmy's sides, as his toes paint swirls of heat into Jimmy's calves.

"Wh-why did you do that?" Jimmy asks after one orgasm that had been set off by Brian biting at the tender flesh of his neck.

"I like seeing you like this," Brian replies, nuzzling his forehead and planting a kiss there. "Just because I'm not aroused, doesn't mean I can't find your arousal fascinating to watch."

"I'm still mostly confused by most of this," Jimmy admits, "but I really like it."

They come into the office holding hands one morning, not even realizing it, and Beverly smiles behind her hands and calls them adorable. "Can I put you on my next Christmas card?" she teases, and they break apart just to stop her from going on and on.

Early summer morphs into late, and by August, Brian is staying over Jimmy's house at least four or five nights a week, and he has a toothbrush and spare clothes tucked into the drawers of Jimmy's dresser. They're not the most interesting couple; most evenings consist of TV, slapdash, thrown together meals, and lots of making out. But Jimmy's never been happier.

On the nights where Brian goes back to his own place, mostly to pretend that he still needs it, Jimmy stares at the empty spot on the bed with a hollow ache, ghosting his fingers over the cold sheets and cursing his own sentimentality, his inability to be direct about the feelings that threaten to overwhelm him. He mouths the words he wants to say to the silence of the bedroom, wondering when he'll have the courage to say them to Brian's face.

 

~

 

"Why do we have to be up this early again?" Brian groans as Jimmy drags him out the front door. "How long is this drive?"

"Only an hour and a half," Jimmy says, tugging the zipper of Brian's jacket up to his neck as the autumn air whips leaves up into the breeze. Brian blinks a sleepy expression and yawns, looking like an overgrown child; it's cute. "But Beverly's boyfriend knows the owner and he's letting us have exclusive access to one of the fields before the main weekend crowds come in. That means an early game."

"I've never even played paint-ball," Brian says, resting his head on Jimmy's shoulder as they wait for Beverly to pick them up. "Have you?"

"No, but she really seems to like Mike, so we're going to support her like the good friends we are and have tiny pellets of paint shot at us by complete strangers."

"You just had to be a busy body and ask her about his interests, didn't you?"

"I was just being my usual personable self," Jimmy defends. "One of the qualities that you seem to like about me."

"Be less personable if it means I get to sleep in on the weekends." He yawns again, dozing against Jimmy's side until the sound of Beverly's car rolling down the street jolts him back awake.

They pile into the back seat; Beverly's at the wheel, and the lanky, brown-haired white guy beside her must be Mike.

"Brian and Jimmy, right?" he says, giving them both handshakes over the center console. "Nice to finally meet you. Bev said you've never tried paint-ball before, so I called some of my friends for a fun introductory game."

Five minutes into the ride, Brian has already fallen back into dozing on his shoulder.

"Sorry," Jimmy apologizes. "I told him not to stay up to marathon season four of _House_ , it wasn't worth it."

Mike shrugs, a laid-back attitude framing his features. "Believe me, once we get suited up and on the field, the adrenaline will keep him going. It's nothing like a real firefight, my last tour in Iraq made that clear, but it gets your blood pumping."

They have a quiet, amicable chat; Mike's actually been dating Beverly for quite a few months, but he's in and out of town because he works for a non-profit that advocates for environmental protections in the Northeast.

"Hmmm, so that's why we haven't been introduced yet," Jimmy says. "Not because Bev is terrified that we're going to scare you away."

Beverly rolls her eyes and flips him off without taking her eyes off the road. "I don't date men who would find you two intimidating. You're my litmus test."

"I'm flattered," Jimmy says. "I can put that on my resume."

Brian sleeps the entire ride up, drooling onto Jimmy's very nice corduroy jacket, he's so paying for the dry cleaning. The paint-ball course is upstate, buried in a thick forest far from any major civilized areas. Beverly turns them off the highway onto an unpaved country road, and somehow the shaking of the vehicle on the dirt path still doesn't wake Brian up. It's only when they arrive at the front gates to the park that Jimmy nudges him, and he slowly opens his eyes, looking through bleary vision up at Jimmy.

"We're here," Jimmy says as he sits up, stretching the kinks out of his back. "Feel a little more rested?"

Brian grumbles but grunts affirmatively as they get out of the car. He twitches as Beverly slaps him hard on the shoulder and says, "Come on, Zeller, don't embarrass me in front of my boyfriend."

"I have a feeling that's going to happen anyway," Brian says. "I've _never_ played this game."

"Don't worry," Mike says, popping the trunk of his car open. "My friends are very personable, they'll be happy to show you the ropes."

The square brick entrance building holds a small lobby with a signup desk and plastic-sheeted lounge chairs sprawled about. To the left is a locker room and storage space. To the right is an equipment rental area. Behind the front desk is a door leading out to the play area - through the large glass windows, they can see three fields fenced in by ten foot high walls.

Brian and Jimmy obviously don't own any equipment, but Mike has a whole kitted out set, and Beverly bought her own after they'd started making a regular game of it. The rental woman fits Brian and Jimmy with a protective vest, gloves, and masks, reminding them not to take said masks off while on the field. She shows them a selection of paint-ball guns, apparently called 'markers,' and tells them to go with whatever feels best in their hands. Jimmy's really only had practice with a pistol, so he can't really tell much of a difference between the AK-47 shaped weapons. He grabs a mechanical one that seems to fit his palm well, and is handed a propellant bottle.

While the rental woman explains how to attach the bottle to the gun, the front door opens with the tinkle of the bell, and four more people step inside, two women and two men. They all look to be in their late twenties or early thirties, the man on the right has dark brown skin and a bleary-eyed look to match Brian's, while the man on the right is lankier and taller, probably a descendant of Southeast Asia, with a thin, curious face. Both women are Caucasian, the blond-haired one on the left around the same height as the first man, while the brunette is the shortest and youngest-looking of the bunch.

"Ah, you're here," Mike says, waving a hello to them. "Traffic okay?"

The blond woman smirks and shakes her head, pointing to the man standing behind her. "Sorry, Troy had issues getting out of bed this morning."

"Yeah, Abed kept him up too late watching _Inspector Spacetime._ " This comes from the other woman, who's setting a bag down, larger than the one Mike holds. In fact, all their bags are bigger, and their clothes are already splattered with dried paint, a sign that they've been through this rodeo before.

"We were almost to the Blorgon Time Crisis Story Arc," says the one she called Abed. "He wanted to keep going."

"I did," says Troy. "If only Time Turners were real, I would never have this problem."

Mike points back and forth between the groups. "Brian, Jimmy, this is Troy, Abed, Britta, and Annie," he says, motioning to the blond and the brunette respectively for the last two names. "Jimmy and Brian are Bev's co-workers," he explains to the other four. "And I met those guys through Britta, we used to go to a lot of protests together," he says to Brian and Jimmy.

"And then you turned corporate," Britta says, grinning, but it's obvious she's teasing.

"Fresh meat, huh?" Annie says, sizing both Brian and Jimmy up and down. She winks. "Don't worry, we'll be gentle!"

"Are we sure everyone is going to be able to keep up?" Abed says, looking at Jimmy without even trying to hide who he's talking about.

Jimmy's about to make a snarky remark about how Abed looks like he'll break in two if someone bumps him, but Mike jumps in before he can. "You know these guys work for the FBI?" he says. "They've probably held more real guns and chased more bad guys than you can count on two hands."

Both Abed and Troy seem to gain respectful, wide-eyed expressions at learning this. "Sweet," they both chime at once. It's kind of unnerving. Jimmy thinks he saw a movie on SyFy about pod people like this once.

Once everybody is suited up, they head through the back door and through the gate of the leftmost field. It's a forested enclosure, the sign on the gate says it's three acres wide, plenty of space for the eight of them to spread out and play.

They decide to warm up with a simple session, splitting into two teams and trying to tag out the opposing team's members. Brian, Jimmy, Mike and Beverly stay near the gate while the other four head into the woods to take up positions on the field. Beverly gives Jimmy and Brian a run-down of the rules - masks on at all times, call out when you get hit, but don't call until you're sure the hit is valid, etc.

"For strategy, Troy and Abed usually pair off, but Annie and Britta are more loose cannons." Mike twists the propellant onto his gun and motions to the left side of the enclosure. "I think we should pair up and circle the whole space in opposite directions. Bev and I can do the left, you guys can take the right."

They spread out, and Jimmy and Brian duck into the cluster of trees, keeping an eye to the fence as they move in a slow, steady walk, Jimmy taking the lead while Brian covers his back. This is much less stressful than a real fire fight; the vest isn't nearly as heavy as Jimmy's bullet-proof FBI standard issue, and he doesn't have the lingering terror in the back of his mind that if he makes a wrong move, his partner could end up with a bullet in his brain.

The fall leaves crunch under their feet as they move quietly. Jimmy can see the thrum of adrenaline pumping through Brian when he glances over. The other man is no longer sluggish and unbalanced; his eyes are focused and he's twitching with energy.

"You hear anything?" Jimmy mutters, ducking low when he thinks he sees movement - but it's just a bird taking off from a nest.

"Nothing," Brian says. He's got the better hearing (yes, they've tested this) and if he's not hearing anything...

But suddenly there's an audible crunch, and they split apart, jumping behind two trees as the splatter of paint-balls lands where they were just standing.

Jimmy hears a female voice curse. Brian pops his head out from behind his tree. "You're gonna have to do better than that!" he shouts, ducking his head back behind the tree when a line of paint-ball fire slices across the other side.

"Which one is it?" Jimmy calls across to him.

"I think Britta, I saw a flash of blond. Keep an eye out, she may not be alone." He motions towards a cluster of trees to his left, and Jimmy understands; he's going to try and circle around. Which means Jimmy needs to lay down some suppressive fire.

Jimmy nods and sticks the barrel of his gun out, firing a few shots towards the direction he thinks Britta is in. Brian takes this opportunity to leap from his position, staying low as he zips to the next cover of trees, making it behind a trunk as another fire of paint-ball pellets hits the ground behind him.

"Where are you going to go from there?" Britta shouts from somewhere, taunting Brian. "Come out and fight me like a person of any gender whatsoever!"

Jimmy gives Brian a confused look; he shrugs and shakes his head, pointing and mouthing words. Jimmy nods and crouches on his heels, and when Brian sends a line of fire off, Jimmy runs, ducking below a row of bushes that hide him from view. He grins as he sees an arm sticking out from behind a trunk, aims, and fires.

"Crap!" Britta calls. "I'm out."

Jimmy’s about to celebrate when he feels the thunk of a pellet hit him straight in the back. He turns to see a small female form disappear behind a tree, and a second later, hears another thunk.

"I'm out!" Jimmy shouts.

"Me too," yells Brian, emerging from the tree line. "She was too fast for me."

"Annie's a little... competitive," Britta says, meeting them in the clearing. She's got a thick splatter of blue paint on her elbow, but she looks pleased. "You guys aren't so bad at this, I guess we shouldn't count you out."

"Don't worry, I'm young and spry enough to make up for grandpa here," Brian says, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder and giving him a cheeky grin.

Jimmy raises an eyebrow behind his mask. "Ohhh, grandpa? Then I've been thinking about our relationship all wrong, I need to incorporate more cheek pinches and lemon candies into our romance. And obviously you can't sleep in the same bed with your grandpa, the neighbors would talk."

He sees the heat rising behind Brian's mask, and chuckles as the man babbles out apologies.

Britta's fixed them with a wide-eyed look. "You guys are dating?" she asks, "That's so cool, pssh, straight people are the worst, right?"

"Sure?" Brian says. "Sometimes? Are you not straight?"

"Oh no, I am, but if, like, a gay person needed to punch me in the face to let off some steam, I would totally let them. I made Abed and Troy come with me and my other cool gay friends to a rally last year." She lowers her voice, as if it's a secret. "I think there's some unresolved feelings going on there."

"Umm... cool." Brian looks like he wants to get as far away from her as possible at the moment.

"Let's go back to the entrance," Jimmy pipes up, trying to clear the air. "We'll wait for the match to end."

With two teammates down, Beverly and Mike are up against bad odds, and sure enough, when the five other players walk back to the entrance, Annie and Abed are high-fiving, while a splatter of paint drips down the side of Beverly's mask.

"Everybody have fun?" Beverly asks, and Jimmy nods; he's not usually one for sports, but he likes the tactics of the game. "Okay, I was thinking of switching the teams around and doing capture the flag next."

"Oooh, Abed and I can team up with Brian and Jimmy!" Annie says, bouncing on her toes. "It'll be fun!"

"I like that idea," Brian says, inching away from Britta, who is looking at him like he's her new best friend.

"Cool cool cool," says Abed. "I've always wanted to confirm that I'm better than Troy."

"Wait, what?" Troy says incredulously. "Hah, Abed, that's funny, but I'm _clearly_ the better paint-ball player."

They start up some sort of argument, the words "Greendale" and "library" and "Han Solo" come up, and Jimmy can't follow the conversation.

"QUIET!" Annie screams, making everyone jump. She smiles cheerily at them when there's silence. "I guess you'll just have to find out today, won't you boys?"

In the end, Jimmy does more poorly than last time, being the first one actually hit; Beverly lands a sweet shot right to his shoulder that's still sore after the match. Brian does better, he manages to be the third-to-last person taken out; Britta catches him in the leg as he's running for cover. Troy and Abed have an epic fire-fight, capturing each other's flags but getting caught at the boundary line, unable to cross back to their own side, which is the requirement for a "win." Finally, Troy barrels out of cover and dives for the boundary... landing a few inches short. Abed shoots him in the back, whistling as he crosses the line.

By the time they're done, Jimmy's sweating through his t-shirt, covered in dirt and grass and pine needles, and his knees are shot for the day, but he's had too much fun to care. He gets friendly slaps on the back from Mike and Abed, compliments on his performance from Annie and Beverly, and Brian gives him a big ol' smooch when he takes his mask off; all three women and Troy go " _awww_ " and Jimmy feels even warmer than before.

He's glad Beverly told them to pack a spare set of clothes; he changes into them for the ride home. After saying their goodbyes to Mike's friends and promising to come back again, he and Brian get into the back of Beverly's car.

Jimmy's the one snoozing this time, resting his head on Brian's shoulder, age catching up to him more than the others. He drifts in and out of the conversation; Brian's voice is soft, soothing, like a lullaby on the edge of his conscious thought. He lets himself get lost in the melody.

When they get home, Brian pulls him into the shower, washing the dirt off his skin and holding him tight as he gets himself off; he still can't see Brian naked in any capacity without getting aroused. They fall into bed, already exhausted despite it only being mid-afternoon.

"That was fun," Brian says, tracing the curve of Jimmy's cheek with his hand. "We make a good team."

Jimmy catches Brian's hand and presses the knuckles to his lips. "Mmmm, yes, Abbot and Costello for the 21st century."

Brian chuckles, a glimmer in his eyes. "I think I'm just old enough to get that reference."

"You don't ever regret teaming up with an old man like me. do you?" Jimmy tries to keep his expression neutral, but the sudden desperate impulse of the question is impossible to hide.

In response, Brian leans forward and pulls him into a heated kiss. "Not for one moment," he mutters, and the look in his eyes sends a trail of fire shooting down Jimmy's spine.

"You're going to make me horny again," Jimmy pants. But he keeps kissing Brian anyway.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE COMMUNITY CROSSOVER BOOM. Let's just say I'm a bit nostalgic after the sad cancellation news. Also let's pretend that Greendale totally exists on the East Coast instead of in Colorado.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

Jimmy opens his front door one late fall afternoon to see Brian curled up on his couch, frowning down at his laptop, looking like someone just fed him a particularly bad batch of seafood.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy asks, closing the door.

Brian shakes his head, shutting the laptop. "Nothing, just old news."

“Anything I should know about?"

Brian sighs. "Wouldn't really help if you did, so no." He stands up, leaving the laptop on the couch to come over and give Jimmy a kiss on the cheek. When he pulls back, Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving away. "What?"

"Now you have me concerned," Jimmy says. "You tell me every stupid little thing that you think or do during the day. I can't shut you up normally."

Brian rolls his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind so I don't bother you in the future."

"Brian..."

"Sorry, sorry... I'm just letting a really dumb Facebook comment get to me."

"What was it about?" Jimmy slips his side bag to the floor, nudging Brian over to the couch. "Do I need to go beat someone up?"

Brian snorts at the suggestion. "I can just imagine you punching someone in the nose and breaking your delicate little fingers."

"I wasn't being literal."

"It's... I posted that photo we took on the pier in Baltimore as my new profile picture, and one of my exes commented on it."

"Oh." Jimmy can only imagine what was said; Brian's never had good things to say about his previous partners. "I'm guessing it wasn't a positive comment."

"I shouldn't let it get me so worked up," Brian says, shrugging. "He was a self-absorbed dick and I was desperate and stupid. Honestly, I don't even know why I accepted his friend request, I blocked him right after that comment and deleted it."

"Well, it's over and done with now." Jimmy pecks him on the cheek and grabs the TV remote. "We can watch whatever you want if it will take your mind off of it."

Brian seems to be okay after that. He doesn't mention the incident for the rest of the evening, though Jimmy catches him lost in thought a few times, eyes on the screen but unfocused and distant.

Later, when they're in bed, kissing and tangled up in each other's arms, Jimmy feels an unfamiliar touch against the erection tenting in his jeans. He jerks back almost instantly, glancing down to see Brian's palm pressed against his groin.

"What are you doing?" Jimmy asks, flabbergasted.

"I thought I could..." Brian slides his hand up, twisting the button on Jimmy's slacks between his fingers, chewing on his lip and avoiding Jimmy's eyes. "Well, I know you'd enjoy it."

"But you wouldn't," Jimmy says, extremely confused. Brian's never shown any interest in increasing the physical part he plays in helping Jimmy get off. To have him so suddenly offer to do this...

"You're always thinking about what I want," Brian says, and he flicks the button open, sliding his hand under the fabric before Jimmy can stop him. Jimmy gasps as skin meets skin. "Let me consider your needs for once."

"But- but Brian-" Jimmy pants.

"Hush," Brian says, sliding his hand down and pulling a whimper from Jimmy's throat.

Something's still not right, there's something he's missing; god that touch feels so good, but Brian's not looking at him, and he always looks at Jimmy when they're doing this, gazes at him with a force of feeling that could move mountains and makes the orgasm a thousand times better, and this isn't what he wants, why would-

"Stop," Jimmy says, finally getting it, or at least he thinks so. Somehow, though it feels like it will kill him, he grabs Brian's wrist and levers Brian's hand from his cock.

"But you were enjoying it." Brian complains.

"What- what did it say?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The comment, you haven't forgotten about it, you're still not okay," Jimmy replies, cupping Brian's chin. "What shook you up so badly that you'd do something like this?"

"I'm fine," Brian says, voice flat. He's got the same terrible lying face he used to put on whenever Jimmy asked him out. _He's shutting me out_ , Jimmy thinks.

"No, you're obviously not." Jimmy isn't even hard anymore, the mood's completely ruined. "Can't you just tell me what happened?"

"Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because I'm concerned!"

"There's nothing to be concerned _about_." Brian jerks his chin from Jimmy's palm and sits up." Maybe I just wanted to do something nice for your whiny ass, you ever think about that?"

"This isn't something you just do out of the blue, Brian." He can feel Brian pulling away from him, and it sends a knot of sickly terror through his intestines. "You wouldn't even look at me, how was I supposed to react, should I have just let you do something you'd regret later?"

Brian glares at him. "How about not patronizing me and letting me make my own damn decisions, _dad_."

There's a flare of red across Jimmy's vision as the knot in his chest tightens. "Well for someone who's only capable of the emotional side of a relationship, you're sure doing a shit job of it right now."

" _Fuck you_ ," Brian says, and the hurt in his expression tells Jimmy instantly that it was the wrong thing to say. But he doesn't have a chance to respond - Brian's off the bed and out the door before he can open his mouth.

"Brian!" Jimmy shouts, going after him, hearing the slam of the front door and entering an empty living room. He's stumbling over the bottom of his pants, and by the time he makes it to the window, Brian's pulling out of the driveway and speeding off into the night.

Jimmy rests his forehead against the glass and resists the urge to punch the nearest object. _Son of a bitch_ , he thinks. _I need to find out what that message said_.

 

~

 

The next morning, Brian won't speak to him at work. Beverly notices, but says nothing, just gives Jimmy quizzical looks, and corners him at lunchtime.

"Is this about that stupid Facebook comment?" she asks the second she gets him alone.

"You saw it?" Jimmy asks, excited to have found his problem so easily solved.

"Yeah, it was pretty nasty."

"I need to know what it said."

"He didn't tell you?" Beverly gives him an incredulous look.

Jimmy shakes his head. "He refuses to. I'm really starting to get worried."

"Oh, well, if he doesn't want you to know..."

" _Please_ , Bev," Jimmy begs.

She sighs. "Well, I don't remember all the details, but the jist of it was that Brian was a frigid prude when they were together, and no wonder he's dating a guy your age, because you probably have erectile dysfunction or something and don't care enough to make him put out."

Jimmy gapes at her, then breaks into laughter. "That is so _petty_ ," he gasps, wiping his eyes. "And Brian dated this guy? My poor babe, having to put up with that."

"It was pretty sad," Beverly says, nodding. "And Brian took it seriously enough for you two to fight about it?"

"He said it didn't bother him," Jimmy replies. "And obviously, he's lying."

She shrugs. "Maybe, even after all this, he's got that last bit of doubt."

"About our relationship?"

"About whether he can provide enough of himself to satisfy you."

This gives Jimmy pause. "What is it going to take to prove to him that he's all I need?"

Beverly doesn't say anything, just gives him a hard, pointed stare, the type that communicates novels worth of information in a split second.

A calm settles over him. "Oh."

They both jump when Jack's piercing whistle echoes down the hallway.

"Suit up," their boss shouts from the end of the corridor. "We've got a tip on the suspect's location. I want you down at the van in five."

"Just think about it," Beverly says as they jog down the hall. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

She's right, but the immediacy of it is terrifying.

 

~

 

"Gentle up the steps, okay? One, two, three, there. Give me your keys."

Jimmy digs into his pocket, wincing at the ache that shoots through his side, fumbling for and finally grabbing a hold of his key chain. Brian reaches for the offered keys with his free hand, the arm that isn't supporting Jimmy, and unlocks the door, slowly walking them into the living room and settling Jimmy on the couch.

"I'm going to get an ice pack," Brian says, shutting the front door. "Just relax, I'll be right back."

Jimmy tips his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and taking a half-deep breath, the tenderness of the bruise on his abdomen preventing a full inhale.

 _Damn nut job_ , he thinks, slipping his shoes off. _Thank god for bulletproof vests_.

The tip they'd received on the suspected murderer had lead them to a small suburban home, quiet and seemingly empty. The neighbors reported that no one had been seen coming or going from the place for weeks, but that didn't mean someone wasn't sneaking out without being detected. Jimmy learned this the hard way; he'd rang the doorbell and was answered by a bullet firing through the wood of the front door, straight into his vest, sending him flat onto his back on the hard pavement patio. It knocked the wind of out his lungs and made the world spin for a moment; someone shouted his name from far away, and Beverly, who had been next to him at the door, had dragged him down the steps and into the bushes for protection, while the officers hidden around the perimeter converged on the house and caught the perp.

The good thing about bulletproof vests was really the whole life-saving aspect, but that didn't mean they could protect you from all complications, as the aching welt on Jimmy's stomach could attest. The pain wasn't severe enough to be a cracked rib, but Jack had told him to take the next two days off anyway, which was probably a good idea, because Jimmy knew it was going to feel even worse in the morning.

Brian comes back with an ice pack. Jimmy watches, keeping still, as he kneels down, lifting up the tails of Jimmy's shirt and revealing the purpling bruise that spreads like a circular shock wave across half of Jimmy's lower abdomen.

"I would ask if it hurts, but I'm not _that_ oblivious," Brian jokes, pressing the towel-wrapped ice pack over the central point of the bruise. Jimmy hisses as the cold burns its way into his flesh, numbing the muscle, making the throbbing sting fade to a dull but potent ache. Still, it's better than it was.

"Remind me to make Jack answer the bell next time," Jimmy groans. "He can take the damned bullet and the glory of falling on his ass in front of the entire squad."

"Somehow I don't think that's happening," Brian says, keeping a grip on the ice pack as he slides up to sit next to Jimmy, "Here, let me be your recovery body pillow."

Jimmy wants to chuckle at that, but doing so will probably result in more pain, so he's going to avoid it.

"We have more ibuprofen in the cabinet, right?" he asks, dropping his head to Brian's shoulder. "I'm going to need more when the pills I got from the EMTs wear off."

"I will make sure we are stocked with every over the counter pain medication," Brian says, adjusting the ice pack and kissing Jimmy on the forehead. "You'll be so drugged up, you won't feel a thing."

"Good."

There's a few minutes where Jimmy just listens to the sound of Brian's voice, a steady whisper in his eardrum, matching the timing of the rise and fall of his chest. Then Jimmy feels Brian's lips trailing across his forehead, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You scared me,” Brian mumbles. “For a second I thought I'd lost you.”

“I'm pretty hardy, Zee,” Jimmy says, lifting a hand to rest over Brian's on the ice pack. "And how do you think I got a face this handsome? The devil's not scheduled to take my soul for another twenty-five years at _least_.”

Brian chuckles, squeezing Jimmy's fingers. “Remind me to buy a fiddle when the time comes so I can steal it back for you.”

“I'll make a note. And while I'm still moderately coherent, I want to talk to you about last night."

"Me first." Brian says. "I'm sorry I left. You were right, I didn't want to get sexual and I would've regretted it. I wasn't being fair to shut you out."

"You aren't frigid," Jimmy mutters. "Or a prude. And anyone who thinks I have erectile dysfunction has never met me."

"Who told you what it said?"

"Beverly. Don't blame her, she can't resist my cute old gay man charms."

"Charm is a nice way of putting it," Brian grumbles.

"Brian, look at me." Jimmy lifts his head as the other man twists his neck to meet Jimmy's eyes. "Some people are sad and petty individuals who have to hurt others to make themselves feel better. Your ex had to lie through his teeth about who you are because he can't handle that you're happy and he isn't."

"I know." Brian smiles but there's a weariness in his eyes. "Logically, I can understand that, but emotionally, it still hurts, and I let that cloud my judgment."

"What did you think initiating sexual contact would accomplish?" Jimmy asks. "I've told you again and again, you only do that if you know you're ready."

"I guess I thought, 'if I can just give him this last thing, he won't have any reason not to...'"

Brian doesn't finish, but Jimmy can put the pieces together, and he should've seen this before, suddenly it makes sense. _God, I'm a fool of a man_ , Jimmy thinks, ignoring the pain in his side to lift his hands and cup Brian's face, kissing him gently.

"I love you," Jimmy mumbles when they break apart. Brian's eyes go wide, his lips part in a silent gasp. "I've never said it before, huh? I don't know why. I have loved you for ages. Maybe even before that first date."

" _Jim_ ," Brian breathes in, staring at him like he's a miraculous vision from God. "I love you too, so much, I just didn't want to say it before you, didn't want to pressure you."

Jimmy smirks. "Zee, you should know by now that I don't do anything I don't want to do."

Brian tugs him into another kiss, muttering the same three words over and over again against his mouth, holding him a bit too tight against the bruise, but it's okay, the medicine is really kicking in, that was some prescription-strength pain killer. He can feel the fog starting to cover his brain, whispering for him to sleep.

"Two more questions," Jimmy mumbles, "before I get loopy. Move in with me?"

"Of course," Brian replies, nuzzling his face against Jimmy's neck. "Already told my landlord I'm breaking the lease."

Jimmy chuckles, shaking his head. "See, I knew you weren't really worried about if I wanted to be with you."

"Yeah, yeah. What's the other question?" Brian asks, resting his forehead on Jimmy's shoulder. "I can't imagine what you could top that with."

"Marry me?"

Jimmy feels Brian still, his entire body freezing in place. Slowly, frustratingly slowly, he lifts his head, meeting Jimmy's eyes with a shocked expression.

"How high are you right now?" Brian asks. "You can't be serious."

"I'm extremely serious," Jimmy says. "Answer me before I become incapable of being serious."

"But we can't in Virginia..."

"Fuck it," Jimmy says. "I'll sell my house and we'll move to DC, or Maryland, they're both less than an hour from Quantico. I- I don't have a ring, didn't have time to get one, but I've never been sure of wanting anything more in my life than you. So what's your answer?"

Brian kisses him, hard, pressing him against the couch and holding onto him like a lifeline in a raging storm.

"My answer is yes," he gasps, a wet stuttering in his voice. " _Jesus_ , Jim, we've barely been dating six months."

"I'm an old fart and I don't want to wait," Jimmy says. "I know what I want and I'm taking it."

And there's that smile, the one he wakes up to in the morning, that carries him through the day, a burning pleasure and joy more satisfying than ten thousand nights of passion. He wants to understand why that one smile can knock him off his feet, why it's the most beautiful sight in the universe.

Luckily, he's going to have the rest of his life to figure it out.

 

 

 

 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anon prompt left on tumblr that turned into something crazy big and stupid and sappy. I hope you liked it, anon!
> 
> Thanks to happily-obsessing-about-chilton for the beta read, I hope I didn't give you a toothache with all the sweetness bb :D
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at nighthawkms.tumblr.com for more Preller, Hannibal fangirling, and other fandom nonsense.


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